


when heedlessly falling, hath stayed thee

by sciencebluefeelings



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Chronic Illness, Domestic Violence, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Post-Star Trek (2009), Pre-Star Trek (2009), Roommates, Starfleet Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:08:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26544229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencebluefeelings/pseuds/sciencebluefeelings
Summary: Kirk and McCoy have always been around each other, but the line remained uncrossed.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy, James T. Kirk/Other(s), James T. Kirk/Spock Prime, Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Original Female Character(s), Leonard "Bones" McCoy/Spock
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	when heedlessly falling, hath stayed thee

The last thing McCoy had been expecting to find at his wedding was a friend.

It had been a stressful morning leading to a stressful afternoon, and probably a good number of stressful months before that. McCoy didn’t remember much of what it had been like to stand at the altar and face a sea of witnesses looking on. McCoy had wanted a small ceremony, but the fiancee didn't.

The vows progressed to the reception as scheduled. The best man gave a speech, recalling anecdotes about McCoy and the newlywed wife when they had still been childhood friends. McCoy had done his part, laughed at the jokes, cut the three-tier cake and smiled for the pictures. His chest was buzzing the entire time and he couldn't tell exactly why.

McCoy was watching the newlywed wife dance with her father when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. It was the hired photographer that had been filming them the entire day. McCoy hadn't gotten a proper glance at him until now, but McCoy recognized the photographer at that instant. That man was the barista at the cafe next to McCoy's medical office.

Once the event was over and the newlywed wife was distracted with talking to her friends, McCoy stopped the photographer from slipping out by offering a large plate of spare catering food. McCoy asked if he was indeed the barista of the cafe. The photographer confirmed it with a surprised smile.

His name was Kirk, and McCoy found himself sitting next to Kirk as he wolfed down the meal. McCoy made a comment about Kirk's variety of odd jobs. Kirk just laughed and told McCoy at some point in his life he had also performed janitorial duties on Starfleet spacecraft. McCoy couldn't tell if it was a joke. McCoy stayed with Kirk until he was dragged away to help clean up the venue. By the time McCoy thought to look for Kirk afterwards, he was long gone.

The honeymoon went by in a blur, and McCoy forgot about Kirk until he went back to work and realized Kirk wasn't working at the cafe anymore. Eventually McCoy's wife sent him to the photography studio to pick up their processed photos and prints. McCoy was pleasantly surprised to see Kirk there.

Kirk seemed equally pleased. McCoy waited, not so patiently, as Kirk fumbled for the large prints and hard drive with stored digital images. McCoy went back home and discovered the drive was filled with images of a completely different couple.

McCoy returned to the studio and called Kirk a disaster. He expected offense, but Kirk laughed at him and declared it took one to know one. The proper drive was given to McCoy, and McCoy said Kirk could make it up to him by buying him a drink. Kirk agreed with an unfailing smile on his lips.

It would be another half a year before they actually went out to get drinks together. McCoy had been busy with his work and his wife. Kirk had been busy with - whatever he'd been preoccupied with. Kirk called McCoy first out of the blue, saying McCoy still owed him that drink. McCoy told his wife he’d be out for a bit. McCoy’s wife didn’t seem to care. They saw each other all the time, they could afford a break this once.

For all their initial stilted greetings, there was an instant chemistry between McCoy and Kirk. Kirk cracked jokes and McCoy rolled his eyes, but whenever he did end up laughing aloud, Kirk looked as though he had achieved the greatest of accomplishments. McCoy left the bar with a promise to meet up with Kirk again.

McCoy learned about Kirk's habits of sleeping around very quickly. It had started as a seemingly normal night at the bar when someone grabbed McCoy by the lapels and roared at him for his claim on Kirk. McCoy had been very confused. The accuser had been very apologetic after Kirk’s rebuttal and explanation - Kirk and the accuser had shared a night together, and the accuser had not realized Kirk did not desire more, nor was McCoy Kirk’s partner.

Following the exchange, McCoy could see the apprehension that belied Kirk’s casual expression. McCoy shook his head and carried on with his usual mildly disgruntled manner. It seemed to break something between them, and McCoy realized he hadn’t been seeing the true Kirk until now, just a shallow facade fearful of being hurt, of being rejected. Now Kirk seemed more comfortable around McCoy and willing to open up to him. That vulnerability took McCoy off guard, but why was it surprising? For better or for worse, they were friends now, weren’t they? If Kirk was along for the ride, McCoy was going to do his best to take care of the kid.

A month passed. McCoy had always gotten along so well with his wife, so their newfound tribulations of living together were unexpected. They argued about everything, finances and work and small nitpicks that normally wouldn’t have meant anything. The arguing and the ‘sleeping together in the same bed’ weren’t new, but it was strange having them paired together every single night. Even McCoy’s enjoyment as a physician was waning.

McCoy’s weekly meeting with Kirk was a reprieve, a breath of air within the week. Kirk somehow always seemed to have an amusing story ready to distract McCoy, and when McCoy began hesitantly mentioning the difficulties of his marriage, he listened with startling attention. As he spoke to the younger man with no context of the situation, McCoy realized how great of a factor his father’s death had been in the hasty acceleration of his and his wife’s marriage. The grief had been so much, and McCoy’s wife and family had always been a predictable constant.

McCoy returned home a little later than usual, despite knowing the arguments that would stir up. He didn’t care.

The first slap across the face should’ve warned McCoy. McCoy had been taken aback, cradling his cheek. There was a cut from a perfectly manicured nail that had scraped the skin.

The wife apologized, cried and promised it wouldn’t happen again. McCoy had apologized as well, he knew he had been out of line himself. He ignored the warning bells, or perhaps he never heard them at all. He thought the shock between them would be enough to quell their conflict for some time, but barely a day had gone by and they were back to where they started, spitting words of vitriol at each other.

Kirk reacted strongly to the cut and bruising, far more drastically than McCoy had anticipated. McCoy attempted to soothe his upset by distracting Kirk with a laugh and change of topic, but Kirk refused to be deterred. McCoy firmly drew the line. Kirk wasn’t to bring up the wife again. As if by unspoken consensus, the rift between them affected their meetings, and McCoy saw Kirk less and less often. McCoy ached to see him, but he would think of how Kirk spoke of his wife and his anger would rise again.

After the drawn out hardship and stressful conflict, the end was almost too succinct. Emotions ran high, voices were too loud. And much like their first big fight, his wife slapped him again. Only this time, he was caught directly in the ear. McCoy screamed. Something was ringing and his entire head was on fire, he distantly was aware of something next to him - or above him?

His wife was crying as she brought McCoy to the hospital - his eardrum’s been damaged, and only partially salvageable for a great sum of money that they definitely did not have. He would be hard of hearing in one ear for the rest of his life. McCoy lay post-operation, staring at the ceiling. What if it had been McCoy’s hands that were damaged? Or his eyes? His profession means so much to him - if he were to lose the ability to perform his delicate operations, it would be like losing part of his soul, of his very being.

When McCoy was discharged, he left the house for a motel, and then found an apartment to rent. He and his wife lived separately until the divorce papers were finalized and signed. Last McCoy knew, his ex-wife was on a starship to god knows where. McCoy didn’t know if he would ever see her again.

His communicator pinged. It was a text from Kirk. The wording was innocuous, but it was clear the younger man was worried after McCoy had been out of contact for so long. There was no apology, not that Jim had done anything to warrant one. McCoy replied asking Kirk if he wanted to meet up. Kirk accepted immediately.

When they met at the same bar as always, Kirk’s eyes flickered to McCoy’s hand with its lack of a wedding ring. He looked back up at McCoy with a warm smile, like nothing had ever changed between them. McCoy can’t help stepping closer to him. It was only when Kirk rested a heavy hand on McCoy's shoulder that McCoy realized it had been the first time in a long time that someone that touched him that wasn't his wife.

Wife - ex-wife. Why had McCoy ever married in the first place? What did he ever think there was to gain from the experience? McCoy had been convinced he’d been in love with that woman, his highschool sweetheart. They’d been together for so long. Would McCoy ever be able to trust the feeling of love again?

Kirk mumbled something that McCoy didn’t quite catch before guiding him inside the bar. McCoy suddenly felt with certainty, with Kirk there next to him, things would turn out alright. It was a strange, irrational feeling of hope he hadn’t felt in a while.

It began as a joke, applying to the Starfleet Academy. Kirk suggested it to take McCoy's mind off of the divorce. The janitorial work was, of course, still an option, but Kirk figured it probably wouldn’t be as befitting for someone with multiple doctorates. Kirk probably wasn't expecting McCoy to propose that they actually go for it.

McCoy was surprised by his own audacity, almost as surprised as Kirk. But isn't this what Kirk always dreamed of, being a Starfleet officer? He bluffed and diverted but McCoy couldn't help seeing the reluctant sparkle whenever Kirk talked about those gorgeous ships and the stars above. If it took McCoy to jumpstart that career, why not. He’d do it.

They enlisted together and applied for housing as roommates. It was at this point that McCoy noticed Kirk retreating back into his shell - his attitude mirrors the shallow mask McCoy had witnessed when they first met. Everyone that walked by them seemed to recognize Kirk, although they never acknowledged him. McCoy did a little eavesdropping on his own and made the shocking discovery that Kirk was the son of the renowned late Captain George Kirk, who had sacrificed himself to save his crew. They had known each other for so long, and it was his first time learning about it. McCoy brought it up with Kirk, absolutely incredulous. 

Kirk laughed until he cried. McCoy was missing the joke, but when he prompted Kirk, he said it was nothing and urged McCoy to order takeout for them - another typical weekday night.

McCoy wasn’t surprised to see Kirk’s habit of sleeping around was an essential element in his academic lifestyle, but the periods of intense studying startled him. He hadn’t expected the younger man to be the bookish type, which he was without a doubt. He would sit scrutinizing a thick volume of literature for four hours before remembering to look up and do things a functioning human being must do.

McCoy found out another secret about Kirk. He cried in his sleep. It was infrequent and silent, but it happened. Every time, McCoy lay with his eyes wide open in the dark, listening and aching to hold him close. 

But it was too soon. McCoy didn’t know intimate touch outside the context of a romantic relationship. He didn’t care about his ex-wife, but he was terrified of ruining Kirk. It seemed every relationship he touched, he ruined. McCoy left Kirk alone. He didn’t know if it was the right choice.

McCoy and Kirk shared a single lecture, and the professor was a Vulcan, prim and broad and dark-haired. McCoy could almost see the hearts in Kirk’s eyes, and he couldn’t help rolling his own.

Kirk predictably flirted with the professor called Spock, to no avail. Kirk seemed to find the professor’s unamused expression that much more appealing. McCoy apologized on Kirk’s behalf, and nearly flinched when those dark, piercing eyes riveted to himself. Kirk looked on, appalled as Professor Spock gave McCoy his comm number. McCoy resisted the urge to laugh.

Kirk nagged as they returned to their room together, half-complimenting and half still annoyed by the reversal. McCoy looked on fondly as Kirk told McCoy to share the number or delete it already.

McCoy did neither. He didn’t do much with it for a few months, despite Kirk’s inquisitive questions and sensing Spock’s stares burning into McCoy’s neck after class.

There was nothing particularly special about that weekend night McCoy called Spock. Kirk had already gone out, and McCoy was feeling restless. After some debate, McCoy picked up his phone and dialed Spock's number.

Half an hour later, he was in Spock’s personal quarters, in his bedroom. Spock removed his own clothing with meticulous precision, folding the garments as he took them off. His body was beautiful, sculpted and smooth. McCoy didn't spare the same attention to his own hastily removed clothing. He shouldn't have derived as much satisfaction as he did at Spock frowning down at the messy pile, but he did.

McCoy pinned down Spock's hips and used his tongue to bring the Vulcan to orgasm. Spock's thighs clenched around McCoy's head as he came into McCoy's open mouth. Before McCoy could touch himself, Spock swatted away his hands to stroke McCoy's length and McCoy came while thrusting into Spock's grip.

McCoy dressed and left as quietly as he arrived. It would've been preferable to fall asleep in Spock's embrace, but pushing for more never ended well. McCoy pretended he was satisfied with this much. 

He snuck back into the room and wasn't expecting to see the lights on and Kirk staring at him from the kitchen next to a pot of boiling water.

McCoy stood there with his tousled hair and bitten lips and neck, reeking of sex. It was a state he had seen Kirk in frequently, but it was the first time the other way around. Kirk was stunned. McCoy rushed into the bathroom, humiliation heating his face all the way down his neck and shoulders.

Next morning, McCoy was hoping Kirk would pretend like nothing had ever happened. Of course, that didn’t happen. Kirk wanted to know if it was McCoy's first time with a man. Of course it wasn't. The answer didn’t change the inscrutable expression on Kirk's face. McCoy asked what was wrong - he figured it was hardly offensive hardly considering the multitude of partners Kirk had chosen. Kirk said he hadn't known that McCoy was interested in men. McCoy was suddenly wary. Would this realization change things between them?

Upon asking him, Kirk’s strange attitude melted. Of course it wouldn’t affect anything. McCoy couldn’t help still feeling apprehensive for the next few days until he has been convinced Kirk was telling the truth. Or maybe he forgot.

And then he couldn’t think of anything at all because Kirk was accused of cheating on the Kobayashi Maru - by Spock. And a hearing had been scheduled in front of the entire academy. McCoy looked on as the man he had slept with debated with his only friend. Kirk argued back against the accusations. That because the Kobayashi Maru simulation was designed to be unbeatable, the only way to beat it was to circumnavigate the original programming. It was frustrating as it was marvelous. It was very much Jim Kirk.

Then they received the distress signal from Vulcan. With the primary fleet out of reach, the cadets were forced to mobilize immediately midway through the hearing. It was mostly spite at how Spock had treated Kirk that lead McCoy to sneak Kirk onto the _Enterprise_ with him. He wasn’t leaving Kirk behind because of some stupid academic probation for that Vulcan’s pride. That wasn’t happening.

McCoy already knew it was meaningless to tell Kirk to lay low before rushing to help the other medical officers, but he had to say it. Barely any time had passed before Kirk was bolting out of sight. McCoy followed him to the bridge where Kirk was begging Pike to listen to him. The anomalies were signs of a trap. Spock surprised McCoy by siding with Kirk, deciding his logic was sound. Spock’s gaze was focused on McCoy as he spoke. McCoy tilted his face away.

The _Enterprise_ exited warp and chaos ensued. Pike surrendered to the Romulan holding them at his mercy, leaving command of the ship to Spock and a mission for Kirk and the helmsman. McCoy was forced to go back to Medical Bay.

Vulcan was destroyed from the inside out, and the Medical Bay was cramped with Vulcans that had barely escaped the same fate as their planet. McCoy lost track of time as he worked. He was on the verge of collapse by the time he was allowed to take a break. Then he learned Kirk had been jettisoned to a hellish ice planet for mutiny against Acting Captain Spock.

McCoy nearly collapsed on the spot. He was terrified, sick to his stomach, and then he was livid. McCoy stormed up to the bridge to confront Spock face to face, not caring about anyone trying to bar his path. McCoy looked at Spock's posture of stoic superiority and hated him with every ounce of his being. For the sake of his own pride, he had risked Kirk’s life. McCoy would never forgive Spock for endangering his beloved friend.

McCoy had to find Kirk. There were people to take care of McCoy’s job aboard the _Enterprise._ There was no one that was gonna help Kirk but McCoy. He was more than willing to risk everything to save him, and he knew Kirk would do the same. McCoy geared up in survival wear and rushed into the transporter room, ordering them to send him to Delta Vega before they were out of range. Spock was already in there, surprisingly, barring McCoy from progressing any further. McCoy can hear the regret seeping through the restrained Vulcan control. It wasn’t enough, and McCoy was going to beam down to Kirk, regardless of how desperate Spock was to stop him from leaving.

Then the transporter room was filled with light and a familiar whine. The transporter chief shrieked and fell backwards, and McCoy and Spock stared at the transporter pad where two huddled bodies now occupied it.

Then Kirk looked up with that familiar too-bright gaze, and something in McCoy splintered. He rushed forward to hug Kirk, and Kirk returned the gesture with soothing hand rubs. The tall man that had transported onboard with Kirk looked on silently.

Kirk introduced that taller man as the elder counterpart of Spock from another universe. Kirk had encountered him on Delta Vega, and with his help had created a transport system at a Starfleet outpost. The older Spock was ready to assist in defeating that deranged Romulan that had destroyed Vulcan.

The image of Kirk clinging to the ambassador's gloved hand refused to leave McCoy's mind.

Kirk and the ambassador changed from their parkas into Starfleet uniform, and the older Spock stood close to his younger counterpart as they discussed battle tactics. His voice was confident yet gentle, with wisdom that seemed to radiate calm. The younger Spock seemed apprehensive of him. McCoy on the other hand was drawn to him, as reluctant as he was, and he knew Jim was attracted to him as well with the way he kept glancing over at the older Spock with those dark Bambi eyes.

McCoy couldn't see Kirk or any of the others as the _Enterprise_ raced to intercept the Romulan - he had to return to his duties in the Medical Bay, and Kirk refused to have Ambassador Spock out of his sight. The entire time, McCoy struggled with the feeling of helplessness as the ship rattled from unknown circumstance and cadets kept coming in with fresh new wounds. It seemed like the battle would never end.

And then Kirk was calling him on the intercom with a tired voice. He confirmed it was over. The Romulan was dead, Pike was rescued and Earth was safe. Kirk sounded as if he had aged considerably within the last few days, and McCoy felt something inside him break a little hearing that.

The next events went by in a blur - the commencement ceremony, the rehoming of Vulcan refugees, and the restructuring of Starfleet Academy in its entirety. McCoy walked the hallways and the noticeable change in density of the crowds was haunting. The remaining cadets didn’t laugh as loudly as they used to, constantly apprehensive of their surroundings and looking over their shoulders.

The _Enterprise_ , once again under the command of Pike and Spock, was busy representing the best efforts of Starfleet as they struggled to mend the heavy repercussions of the war. Kirk and McCoy were part of her crew, as was Ambassador Spock. Kirk no longer shared a room with McCoy, who had his own suite as the Chief Medical Officer, but they still found time to spend together in the mess hall or outside of their shifts. Both were still not on speaking terms with Commander Spock, but Kirk could frequently be seen with Ambassador Spock. 

Kirk had never been a subtle man and it was even more so now, with Kirk’s gaze frequently affixed to the older man. McCoy dared ask him about it one night they were drinking alone together. Kirk stammered and blushed as he tried in vain to smoothly circumvent the topic. McCoy allowed the abrupt change in conversation, but his mind was still reeling. Whatever his relationship with the ambassador was, Jim was hiding it well. Like the knowledge of it was too precious for anyone but himself and the ambassador. This wasn't the academy student boasting about his conquests in bed. This was different. Was this what it looked like when Jim Kirk was in love?

McCoy didn't know how to feel about this information, much less act upon it. But what was there for him to do? He had already decided long ago that his friendship with Kirk wasn’t worth risking for romance - or sex. That was never an option. McCoy repeated it to himself every time he saw Kirk laughing with Ambassador Spock. It was hard to resent that old Vulcan, he was so kind and generous, but jealousy had already found its place and rooted. 

The _Enterprise’s_ schedule became more manageable as the days went by, until McCoy wasn’t working crazy long hours anymore and everyone in the crew was granted more leave. Things were almost idyllic. Kirk was the happiest McCoy had seen him. For a moment it seemed like things would be alright.

One afternoon while sharing a meal, Kirk asked if McCoy had noticed anything off with the ambassador. Kirk mentioned the old Vulcan had a persistent cough, and it wasn’t improving, not to mention he seemed more lethargic as of late. McCoy had also noticed that cough. He had assumed it was because the ambassador was adjusting to the space dust, which wasn’t always fully filtered by the starship’s contaminant filters. It was something all new crew members usually needed a few weeks to adjust to, along with the quality of the recycled air. McCoy promised to look into it. For now, he had to get back to his paperwork that he had been neglecting. He had a personal physical checkup today that would take a large portion of time that could be going into paperwork.

The nurse looked more serious than usual. She observed that there was something strange with McCoy’s hemoglobin and white corpuscle counts. It wasn’t severe enough to warrant worry, but they should keep checking on it. 

In a sudden pang of anxiety, McCoy wondered if the ambassador would know anything about it, and he approached the old Vulcan to ask him about it while informing him he would be due for a physical soon. The ambassador looked thoughtful, but said he had no input to offer on the situation. McCoy would have to take his word for it.

Not even half an hour later, a fight broke out in the science labs, and McCoy was shocked to hear the two involved were the older and younger Spocks. McCoy rushed down to the labs with several other officers to find Commander Spock accusing Ambassador Spock of tampering with stores that needed to remain untainted for scientific purposes. He was clearly scandalized by the intrusion upon his samples, even more so because it was his own counterpart breaking the rules. Commander Spock was even more confused by the choice of material the ambassador had tampered with: extract of protein-mineral callasiate-17. The _Enterprise_ had obtained it before the tiny planet they had gotten it from had gone supernova. To call it incredibly rare was an understatement - it was probably the last callasiate-17 this entire universe held. And Ambassador Spock had used the laboratory equipment to boil it, resulting in the conversion of the callasiate to its denatured forms. 

McCoy was mystified. The ambassador was refusing to share why he had done so, even with the captain. Normally these circumstance would lead to the offender being held in the brig, but Pike pinched the bridge of his nose and revoked the ambassador’s lab access. He declared it a done matter and told everyone to go back to what they had been doing.

McCoy saw his opportunity when he had Ambassador Spock isolated in one of the medical wards to check what Kirk had been so worried about. The ambassador’s eyes were soft on McCoy as he lay on the medical cot, watching him work. McCoy asked bluntly why the ambassador had converted the callasiate.

The ambassador said it was required for an antidote. He took a tablet and pen and wrote down a formula along with a name. _Xenopolycethemia_. It wasn’t a name McCoy recognized. One of the key ingredients in the formula was a byproduct from the denatured callasiate.

McCoy nearly spluttered when the ambassador took McCoy’s wrists into his hands and leaned closer. The ambassador explained that xenopolycethemia was the condition affecting McCoy’s hemoglobin and white corpuscle counts. It was a fatal condition, and unless the antidote was used, McCoy would die within a year. It was bewildering news. McCoy had a feeling that interdimensional intervention like this was against several Starfleet rules, and he voiced just as much. Ambassador Spock’s eyes darkened and he leaned back again. There was a finality in his expression that McCoy didn’t like. 

McCoy resumed his examination of the old Vulcan, adjusting the sensitivity of the scanning equipment. His hands stuttered to a halt when he discovered what was wrong, and the ambassador stayed silent, like he had already known what was affecting him from the start. Ambassador Spock’s organs were failing rapidly due to radiation from red matter, the material that had transported him across realities and time, that had destroyed the entire planet of Vulcan. It was now destroying Ambassador Spock’s body from the inside out.

It was so strange. The ambassador looked fine now, but the reality was that he only had about thirty standard days of life left. McCoy had to resist the urge to throw down his tools. Why hadn’t he informed them about this earlier? McCoy put Spock under the care of another nurse to perform a couple more tests as he rushed to his office to research the substance threatening the ambassador’s existence. It wasn’t surprising to learn there was barely any information on it. It was too advanced of a technology, not to mention most data on it was likely highly classified. 

When the ambassador was beginning to show more physical signs of illness a week later, McCoy determined he had discovered as much as he could learn about the red matter, along with the information catalogued from the ambassador himself. McCoy was cursing internally as he read the results of his calculations. 

One of the antidotes to negate the red matter required a specific unicellular organism that could only be hatched with a specific type of subprotein - which existed in callasiate. But the callasiate had to be in its intact form. It was too late to reconstitute it back from its denatured form that the ambassador had converted it into. McCoy spend days looking for an alternative, but all the alternatives he discovered would take months to brew. There was little chance they would be able to find a preexisting substance to use. McCoy sat back in his office chair and put his head in his hands. Looking at the amount of callasiate, there would’ve only been enough to save one of them. Ambassador Spock had sacrificed himself for McCoy.

McCoy stormed to the ambassador’s bedside where he was hooked up to several more machines. McCoy demanded to know when the ambassador had discovered it. Why he had chosen to do such a thing. It wasn’t his place to choose on his own like that.

The ambassador closed his eyes. What was done was done. There was little use in discussing it further.

McCoy resisted the urge to grab the frail ambassador and shake him by the shoulders, and the ambassador merely looked amused by his expression. He said that McCoy reminded him so acutely of his dear friend, McCoy’s counterpart of his universe. The ambassador had realized the radiation in his body was advancing more quickly than anticipated and had researched the cure in privacy. He had not expected McCoy’s xenopolycethemia to escalate as soon as it did, as it remained dormant in his McCoy until the later years of his life. The ambassador already knew the formula for xenopolycethemia, and upon accessing the database, he knew there wouldn’t be enough callasiate for them both. He said McCoy deserved a long life, just like his own McCoy after overcoming his own illness.

McCoy could sense the main unspoken reason for the old Vulcan’s actions. It was not a choice the ambassador wished to impose on McCoy, on the younger Kirk’s heart. The ambassador had been fascinated when he learned Kirk and McCoy had met before McCoy’s marriage, and afterwards, it was as if he was always discreetly analyzing their relationship.

McCoy was torn. Kirk was going to discover what had been done, and he would be completely heartbroken. McCoy turned and left the ambassador alone. He was a doctor, dammit. He had to save Kirk’s happiness. He _had_ to heal Ambassador Spock.

It was agonizing watching the ambassador weakening daily with still no hopes for a cure. He was clearly in pain, but he mustered a faint smile whenever he saw McCoy. 

Kirk had made the ambassador’s hospital room his permanent housing. McCoy heard them once. He was going to check on the ambassador’s vitals when he heard hushed whispers through the door, Kirk's whimpers of pleasure coupled with the ambassador's soft grunts. McCoy backed away with haste. It was one thing to suspect they were sleeping with each other, it was another to have it shoved in McCoy’s face. Despite it all, McCoy couldn't feel an ounce of satisfaction the ambassador would no longer be able to take Kirk from him. McCoy is suddenly reminded of his dying father, a man that had begged for inevitable death from an irreversible condition. If McCoy had waited two weeks to shut off life support, his father might have lived. Would it be possible to save the ambassador if McCoy could keep him alive just a little longer? Or was he just prolonging his suffering?

Kirk took McCoy aside one day, and it wasn’t until Kirk forced him to sit down in front of a bowl of food that McCoy realized he hadn’t eaten anything in two days. Kirk watched him eat, then as McCoy finished the meal Kirk set a vial in front of him with a single pill. McCoy stared. No doubt it was the xenopolycethemia antidote. Commander Spock must’ve finished synthesizing it. Had Kirk really thought McCoy would refuse it? Slowly McCoy took a glass of water and took the antidote in front of Kirk for him to watch.

Kirk met McCoy’s eyes, and nothing in his gaze was hidden. If it had been McCoy in Kirk’s position, he would’ve hated the man that had stolen the life of his love. He would’ve resented him so, so deeply. McCoy didn’t deserve it, or Kirk's kindness.

Time went by too quickly. Ambassador Spock was moved to one of the _Enterprise’s_ guest bedrooms at his own request, and the only two people in the room were the ambassador and Kirk, who stayed by the ambassador's bedside until he was gone. Part of McCoy hadn’t expected it of Kirk. He had anticipated the young man to leave earlier, unable to handle the strain. But he stayed.

Watching Kirk grieve was awful. He never cried, not even during the brief funeral. When it ended, McCoy went back to his quarters and pretended not to notice Kirk following him back to his quarters. McCoy let him in.

The door closed behind them. Kirk crushed himself in McCoy’s arms and McCoy clung to him. He’d been wanting to hold him like this forever. Kirk told McCoy that the ambassador had confided in Kirk, how the ambassador missed his friends so much that he physically ached. He feared that his devotion to Kirk was not because he wanted him, but because he desired the shadow he saw in him. Kirk didn’t care that he was a replacement, but it bothered the ambassador. He said Kirk didn’t deserve to be loved in such a manner. As they spent time together, it seemed like it was getting there, that the ambassador could love Kirk for who he was rather than who he reminded the ambassador of. Maybe if there had been more time, it could've happened. So many if’s and maybe’s.

Kirk was crying now. He really loved that old Vulcan, and he would never know if he could’ve been loved in return. McCoy wanted to despise the old man for taking advantage of Kirk, but he knew it was never as simple as that. Not to mention he could relate - resisting Kirk was as futile as trying to escape from the heart of a black hole. 

McCoy had never been good with words, Kirk knew as well as McCoy. He just held Kirk tighter, willing him to understand how important he was, how much he meant to him.

He wished he could pretend the first kiss was unintentional. The tear rolled down Kirk’s cheek and McCoy found himself unable to keep from kissing it away. Kirk stilled. McCoy leaned forward and did the same to the tear falling from the other eye. He was ruining everything but he couldn't stop. He willed Kirk to shove him away. He wasn't strong enough to do it himself.

Of course, he didn’t. Kirk pulled McCoy closer as if he had been desperate to do so forever. They fell backwards into McCoy’s bed, and clothing was removed until the expanse of Kirk’s skin was revealed to McCoy. He ran his hands up along Kirk’s warm body with wonder. Kirk’s touch was addictive, insistent yet gentle. He urged McCoy inside of him, but he was too tight. McCoy patiently fingered him open as Kirk whimpered into McCoy’s open mouth.

The whole time, McCoy’s mind was going seven different places. He’d never been this scared in his life. This wasn’t a risk worth taking. Kirk was going to have sex with McCoy, and then he was going to leave him like he did with the multitude of people McCoy had seen before. It was over. Until then, McCoy was going to savor this moment. 

Kirk came on McCoy’s stomach as McCoy thrusted up into him, finding his release moments later. They panted for breath together, still entwined on the bedsheets. Kirk collapsed next to McCoy and drew the covers over them both. They fell asleep together, not bothering to clean themselves off.

McCoy woke the next morning, and found Kirk still asleep. He wondered briefly whether Kirk would want to leave discreetly, but he wanted to ask Kirk if they could stay friends despite the night before. He went to the bathroom and then hung around awkwardly in the main room, waiting for Kirk to wake up. When Kirk came out the bedroom door, he was freshly showered and wearing McCoy’s clothing. McCoy almost forgot what he was going to say.

Kirk listened quietly as McCoy spoke. There was a long silence afterwards.

Kirk told McCoy bluntly. He wanted him. He’d wanted him even when McCoy was getting married, but he’d conditioned himself to keep his hands off because he was off limits. And now at this point Kirk was convinced he wasn’t good enough for someone as amazing as McCoy, and he didn’t want to lose his only friend because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

McCoy couldn’t believe his words. He told Kirk not to say things to try and make him feel better. He’d been wanting Kirk for so long, it couldn’t be that simple - that Kirk had wanted him back this whole time.

But Kirk was Kirk. He didn’t need mindreading to understand, he wears his heart on his sleeve, every emotion both good and bad. Or was it that McCoy had spent enough time with him that he could read Kirk like that?

So they ended up eating breakfast together, and it wasn’t as awkward as McCoy had anticipated. This was still Kirk. McCoy braced for it to be awkward when they separated and saw each other the next time, but wasn’t. They ate meals together like they always had. At night, Kirk slept in McCoy’s bed, and if he cried in his sleep, McCoy was right next to him to soothe him. They shared conversations about their day, what problems and solutions they had encountered. 

McCoy asked Kirk to be his boyfriend four months after the ambassador’s death. Kirk hugged McCoy as he said yes. McCoy waited for the label to change the dynamic between them. It didn’t.

One night while they were lying in bed together, Kirk whispered into McCoy’s bare shoulder, asking if McCoy remembered when Kirk had laughed upon learning McCoy had just found out Kirk was George Kirk’s son. Of course McCoy remembered.

Kirk confessed that his entire life, he had been compared to George Kirk and his heroic act. There was nothing but disappointment from everyone he met, as Kirk failed to measure up each time. Even Ambassador Spock had compared Kirk to the counterpart of his reality. McCoy had been the only one to see and treat Kirk for who he was. Maybe McCoy had suspected it in the back of his mind but never bothered to bring it to the forefront. It was completely different hearing Kirk say it out loud before snuggling closer to McCoy's side.

The realization happened a few months later. It was a good day. McCoy noticed Kirk laughed more often daily, his face was brighter with each passing week. Kirk was in their kitchen, stirring and humming. McCoy watched Kirk carefully taste the soup with a little scrunch of his nose and he knew at that moment, he couldn’t live without Jim Kirk. It was something hot and scalding, yet at the same time a quiet, easy acceptance of a fact in his life that had never been a phase.

Kirk made a noise as McCoy hugged him from behind. McCoy kissed the nape of his neck. “You know I love you, Jim?”

Kirk chuckled and entwined his fingers in McCoy’s. “You big softie, you.” McCoy squeezed Kirk’s fingers tighter and felt a quiet thrill when the gesture was reciprocated. 

“Yeah, Leonard. Love you, too.”


End file.
